More Than Blood
by Glory Alchemist
Summary: Family is more than blood. It is something that we make ourselves, by choice or by accident. Shades and the gang are back, and they are about to learn this in one of the oddest ways imaginable. Takes place between "The New Guy" and "Somehow Sundown" (renamed, again).
1. Chapter 1

**Hellow again. It's been quite a while since I published anything, but this story was just begging to be written, and I really enjoy these characters. For those of you who are new to this story, I would highly recomend reading "The New Guy" first, as it will make a lot more sense.**

**I do not own Star Wars.**

* * *

"No, not like that." Try as she might, Jedi Knight Edrasi Nyine couldn't keep a hint of frustration from her voice. Her unlikely student had no such qualms. Fib scowled at her from under sweat dampened red hair from where he was perched on her bed.

"There's no point to this," he growled, this time directing his glare at the comlink that sat stubbornly motionless in the empty space between the bed and the door. For all his attempts, the comlink had barely moved an arm's length in the last five hours. Tempers were wearing thin on both sides.

Edi pinched the bridge of her nose and drew in a deliberately calming breath._ This is why I never took a Padawan_, she reminded herself sourly. And yet here she was, attempting to teach her clone medic how to summon things to himself with the Force. The lesson had not been going well.

"There is a point," the Jedi replied with forced calm. "Healing is only one aspect of the Force. Picture a gem. There are many sides, each unique, each casting its own special light, but without the others—"

Her carefully built—and, in her opinion, well done—metaphor was interrupted by a rude snort from the bed. The last of Edi's thinly warn patience snapped. "Fine," she spat, in a rarely shown display of temper. "If you think this is so pointless, then just go! Get out of my room. I don't want to see you for the rest of the day!"

"The feeling's mutual," Fib snapped. He was off the bed and out the door in a heartbeat, so fast that Edi's bangs fluttered with the breeze of his passing.

With the door closed, Edi felt free to indulge in a rather childish display of frustration. She kicked viciously at her mattress, growling under her breath. "Kriffing medics, kriffing Force, kriffing Force-sensitive clones!"

Yet, when she'd finished abusing her mattress, Edi felt more empty than vindicated. With a world weary sigh, she sank down on to her bed and cradled her head in her hands. _I really should have handled that better. I'm the Master here, it's my job to guide my student and set an example_. Instead of remaining calm and talking the problem out, she had behaved like a petulant toddler and thrown a tantrum. Edi made a face at the thought. _But I need Fib to work with me, too. I can't do this all by myself. He needs to meet me halfway_. Her sigh this time was one of exasperation and confusion. Why was he being so difficult?

Edi settled herself more comfortably on the bed and sank into the calming currents of the Force. Ripples of light filled her with each breath, calming and soothing away the rough-warn edges of her emotions. As peace washed over her, her mind cleared, allowing her to examine the problem more clearly without her emotions to cloud her perception. She turned it this way and that, studying it, allowing the Force to guide her to a new and deeper understanding of her reality.

Fib was frustrated, yes. He was used to things coming easily to him, used to tangible things that he could grasp and aim and shoot. The intangible realm of the Force was an altogether new experience, a murky world where thoughts and intentions were truer than even the most solid barricade. It was altogether too easy to forget, having grown up in the Temple, that Fib had only come into his powers seven months ago. _I need to be patient_, Edi realized. _It will come to him in his own time, not mine_. But there was more to Fib's hostility than simple frustration. If that was the only problem, they could have cleared it up with some basic meditation. The root of the problem lay deeper, buried beneath Fib's outward display of rudeness.

When Edi finally hit upon it, she could have smacked herself for missing something so obvious. _He's scared. No, he's terrified_. Only Jedi were supposed to have access to the Force, or so the clones seemed to have been taught. The idea that one of them could draw on the same power that the Jedi wielded came close to hypocrisy. Fib was terrified of what his ability to touch the Force made him. He wasn't, could never be, a Jedi. He was much too old. And yet he was no longer fully a clone either, having abilities that none of his brothers could ever truly understand. He was set adrift, separated from both groups by circumstances that were beyond his control. For someone raised in such a close-knit community and trained from birth that the only way to survive was to depend wholly on your brothers, such isolation was petrifying.

Fib was afraid of what his brothers would think if they discovered the truth. Remembering Shades's initially hostile reaction, Edi couldn't disagree with that fear. Fib also dreaded what he might do to his brothers if he ever lost control. He would never intentionally hurt them, but untrained Force-sensitives had been known to injure, or even kill, people by accident when their uncontrolled powers reacted to strong emotions. _But that's why he needs training. So he can control it, not the other way around_.

Edi allowed herself to rise out of the Force, buoyed up on a breath and coming back to herself on the exhalation. She stared listlessly at her desk, which had altogether too much flimsy work on it for her peace of mind. Now that she had a better grasp of the situation, she felt even more guilty for having let her frustration get the better of her.

_Fib is one of my boys. It's my job to take care of him and be an anchor when he needs one. I'm the only one who can really understand what he's going through right now, and when he doesn't understand something I snap at him and send him packing. I know him well enough to understand that all that rudeness is just to cover up what he's really feeling. I was no better than Master Nivix_.

Memories of her old master rose unbidden to the surface of Edi's mind. He had never had any patience for what he had termed her "excuses." Any Padawan of his was expected to understand a lesson the _first_ time. If they didn't, it was due to some failing of their own, not his teaching.

_They say we imitate our parents with our own children. No matter how much we tell ourselves that we'll be different, we'll do better, when push comes to shove we all fall back on the only real way we know how to handle things. How our parents taught us._

With a grunt of disgust Edi pushed away such fatalistic thoughts. They were full of self-pity, and in the end, they were only an excuse. Jedi did not make excuses.

Reaching out with the Force, Edi had no trouble finding Fib. His green Force-light was in the _Starlight_'s medbay. She didn't have to touch him to gage his emotional state. Frustration and worry twisted together in a confusing knot shot through with yellow flashes of genuine hurt. Despite his outward show of indifference, Edi's display of temper had hurt him.

Even as her own guilt flared accusingly, Edi couldn't suppress her pleasure at the ease with which she was able to commune with Fib in the Force. It was almost seven months to the day when Separatist sympathizers had attacked Renegade Company's base on Haashimut. Fib had been severely injured by shrapnel when a missile struck the base. In a desperate attempt to save his life, Edi had reached for him in the Force, merging their consciousness. She had discovered not only that Fib was an untrained Force-user, but that he had an astonishing gift for healing. In an effort to help him use his as yet unknown ability to heal himself, she had somehow tangled herself up in him, leaving a bit of her Force presence behind when she left and taking some of him with her. Edi had completely unintentionally created the beginnings of a Force-bond similar to that shared between a Jedi Master and her Padawan. And even though it was only seven months old, it was already stronger than the one Edi had shared with her own Master. It was something that she had made on her own, something that Master Nivix had no claim in.

_Family is more than blood, or even Force-bonds. The family that really matters is the one we make ourselves_.

Soothed by these thoughts, Edi touched Fib through the Force, conveying her guilt and how sorry she was that she'd snapped at him. At first his presence retreated, giving her the Force version of the cold shoulder. Always so stubborn. But when she didn't pull away Fib did reach back, communicating his own feelings of grudging acceptance and an apology. He hadn't meant to hurt her, either. Fib's thoughts were abruptly elsewhere as one of his unfortunate patients caught his attention.

As Edi eased back into her own mind she smiled in amusement. Karic was going to with he hadn't tried to sneak out of medbay while he thought Fib was distracted.

The comlink still sitting in the middle of the floor beeped. Edi called it to herself with the Force and flicked the acknowledgement key.

_"General Nyine, this is the bridge."_

"Nyine here. Go ahead, Foaly."

_"Sir, we've got an incoming message for you in the comm room from General Nivix."_

Edi froze halfway to the door. Something cold and heavy settled in her stomach. It took her two tries before her throat would open enough for her to speak. "Thank you, Foaly. Tell the general that I'll be right with him. And have captain Thorn meet me in the comm room."

_"Will do, sir. Bridge out."_

After the comlink went dead Edi didn't move right away. She just stood where she was, staring with slight defocus at the door frame. Then with a violent shake of her head, she stepped into the hall and headed for the comm room.

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Thorn arrived at the comm room out of breath, scrubbing furiously at his still damp hair with one hand and clutching his helmet with the other. The comm from the bridge had come just as he was stepping out of the shower. There'd been no time to dry off. The captain had simply thrown his armor on and double-timed it to the comm room. Thorn wished vaguely that he'd had time to dry off. The water left over from the shower was causing his under suit to stick uncomfortably to his skin and rub with every movement. It was a distraction that he didn't want to deal with right then, but he didn't have many options.

_Just grin and bear it._

General Nyine was already in the room when Thorn arrived. She was leaning nonchalantly against the wall across from the holo display, doing a credible enough job at looking relaxed. Thorn saw through the rues as soon as he entered the room. If anything, she was too relaxed, deliberately loose-limbed and casual with her arms crossed over her chest and one foot cocked out in front of her. The act would have fooled anyone else, but not a clone. Living in a sea of identical faces, it became a necessity to be able to tell your brothers apart by the smallest mannerisms, if only to avoid an embarrassing screw up. Thorn was better than most at reading people. He easily noted the slight tension in Edi's jaw and the faintest crease between her eyebrows. She was not happy about something.

"Sir." Thorn tossed her a perfunctory salute, which she returned more out of habit that because she was really acknowledging him. It had the intended effect. It got her moving and pulled her mind back from whatever thoughts were troubling her.

Edi glanced at her captain with rye amusement and gratitude. She knew perfectly well what he'd been doing. Her appreciative glance changed to one of surprise, then amusement.

"Well, well. Finally decide to indulge in some 'frivolous body art,' captain?"

Thorn's hand automatically leapt to his right cheek, and he felt the beginnings of a blush. He was well aware of the feelings he'd expressed to Edi on the topic of tattoos when they'd first met, but that was over two years ago. A man could change his opinion, right?

"Ah, yes. That…. You see, Sketch had his tats set out, and he'd already done Trawler and, well…yeah."

Edi's eyes sparkled in amusement at this less than eloquent explanation from a man who always seemed to know the right thing to say. "Well, don't be shy about it. Move your hand, I want to see."

Blushing furiously now, Thorn reluctantly lowered his hand. The skin on his cheek and neck was still tender and was now tingling uncomfortably as blood rushed to the surface. A pale green vine sprinkled with dark green thorns wound its way up the side of his neck from under the collar of his bodysuit and bloomed into a dark burgundy flower with gently curving petals emblazoned with orange tips on his cheek. A few thinner vines spread out from behind the flower, one following the curve of an eyebrow and another just barely touching the corner of his mouth. It has taken more than five hours to complete. In the end Sketch had pronounced it one of the finest tattoos he'd ever done.

Edi whistled in appreciation, smiling with obvious delight at the delicate artistry. Her finger ghoasted over Thorn's skin, tracing the vine that curved over his eyebrow.

"I must say, captain, when you commit to something, you really _commit_."

Thorn's lips twitched slightly. "It's how I was trained, sir."

Edi threw back her head and laughed. Any remaining tension drained away as she leaned against the wall to catch her breath. After whipping tears from her eyes, she straitened and flashed her second a smile of genuine affection. "Thanks, Thorn."

Thorn allowed himself to return the smile. "You're welcome, Edi. Now, should we see what General Nivix wants?"

Some of the amusement left Edi's eyes. "Yes," she murmured. "Yes, I suppose we should."

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**Please review.**

**mad'ika**


	2. Chapter 2

**I second chapter is now up. I had some fun with this one.**

**I do not own Star Wars.**

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Thorn couldn't hide his confusion as he glanced down at the datapad on which he'd made copious notes during the comm conference between the generals.

"Let me get this straight. Nivix called to ask us to go to Dagelin Minor in his stead so he could run off to some undisclosed location and take part in a classified assignment that, from the sound of it, is nothing more than a glorified training run. So basically, we're covering for him."

"That sounds about right," Edi admitted.

"But why us? He could have asked someone who wasn't on their way back to Coruscant for a refit. The _Starlight_ needs a checkup, and the men haven't had any down time since we left Haashimut."

Edi nodded reluctant agreement with his statements. "You're right, Thorn. On all accounts. But someone needs to go, and General Nivix asked us to, so…"

Thorn eyed his general with growing suspicion. "But you would have said no if anyone else had asked, even the Council. What makes Nivix so special?"

A look of shame crossed General Nyine's face, and she glanced away. "He was my Master. We never got along. Nothing I ever did was good enough for him. But even then he knows that all he has to do is ask and I'll do everything I can for him. We never outgrow trying to please our parents." This last she said with a pained smile.

Thorn didn't know what to say, so he simply clasped her shoulder in silent support. "I'll have Pod lay in a course for Dagelin Minor, sir."

"Thank you, captain."

* * *

Dagelin Minor had once been a pleasant world, known for its moderate climate and long growing season. Fallix grain and Angorian wheat were its specialties and often appeared in many of Coruscant's more refined eating establishments. Then the war began and the once prosperous but relatively unimportant planet found itself the focus of nearly constant strife. Dagelin Minor had changed hands four times since the start of the war. Almost continuous fighting had left its once green fields barren planes of dust, and many of its sparkling metropolitan centers were now nothing more than smoking ruins. And yet it was imperative that the Republic regain control of the planet. Situated at the intersection of two main hyperspace routs, Dagelin Minor would provide whichever faction that controlled it with a well-positioned staging area from which to launch an attack deep into either Separatist or Republic territory.

From that standpoint, it was vital that the Separatist forces be driven out and the planet secured. But Shades could still wish that someone else had gotten the thankless job of actually doing it.

"Why can't we ever go somewhere nice?"

It was a relevant question. Scores of bombing raids had reduced the planet's once rich soil to fine dust. It swirled into the air at the slightest breeze, making even close by objects appear hazy and not entirely real. Worse, the dust got in everything, including helmet filters.

Shades coughed and turned on his AC with a furious blink of his watering eyes. Cool air blasted onto his face and cleared his helmet of the invasive dust. For the time being, anyway.

_"You're whining again,"_ came a familiar, irritated voice over his helmet's internal comm. _"I thought you were trying to break the habit."_

Shades bit back an aggravated growl and settled for giving Fib a whack on the arm that was just a little too hard to be considered friendly. "Shut it. I do not whine. It was a valid question. Name one place we've been since Haashimut that's actually been _nice_."

Fib responded to the smack by disdainfully turning his head in the other direction. _"What about Montressor? Even you have to admit that those were some beautiful beaches."_

The clone sergeant snorted in derision. "Yeah, until Ion got eaten by that eel-squid thing. Poor _di'kut_."

_"At least Edi cut him out. The armor saved him from the worst acid burns. Not too bad."_

Shades shook his head in disbelief. "Only you would think of getting eaten by a sea monster and nearly digested as 'not too bad.' The Kaminoans must have spiked your growth vat." Shades didn't need to be Force-sensitive to know that the medic was giving him a venomous glare. He ignored it with practiced ease.

The conversation was interrupted before it could take a nasty turn by the eternally disapproving voice of Lieutenant Shmolt over the long distance comm. _"Cut the chatter. In case you two _shabuire _have forgotten, you're on a scouting mission in possible enemy territory. So start acting like the professionals you ought to be before I have to come out there and kick your _sebse_ into line."_

Fib made a mock salute to no one in particular. _"Yes sir, Lieutenant Shmolt, sir. Commencing professionalism now, sir."_ His voice was heavy with undisguised sarcasm.

The only response was a particularly aggravated _click_ as the Lieutenant signed off. Shades rolled his eyes. "Why do you always have to bait him? One of these days he's going to smack you silly, and all your Force damned healing won't do a thing to save you."

_"Shut up."_

Shmolt did have a point though, about possible enemy territory. Renegade Company had set up base just outside of what remained of Hijavi, once Dagelin Minor's main manufacturing center. Now half the city was a bombed out shell and the other half was a hotly contested site of urban guerilla warfare between Republic and Separatist forces, with the locals attacking both sides indiscriminately. Technically, Shades, Fib, and the other scouts were supposed to be clearing this sector of any remaining Sep droids, but Edi had heavily implied during the mission briefing that they should look for any unarmed survivors and take them to the refugee camp that was being set up near Renegade's temporary FOB.

The staccato sound of blaster fire echoed from several streets over. No shouts of alarm came over the comms and the fighting was far enough away not to present an immediate worry. _Probably looters having it out._

Shades idly wondered what Renegade was doing on Dagelin Minor at all. The last time Fleet Command called in with orders it was to report back to Coruscant for repairs and some much needed R and R. And yet not seven hours later they were headed in the opposite direction. The clone sergeant had heard rumors going around that Edi was doing this as a personal favor to someone, though no one seemed to know who. Only Captain Thorn knew the whole story, and he wasn't talking.

"Why do you suppose we're here?"

_"Don't know. Don't really care."_

Shades had a hard time believing that. "You can't tell me you're not curious," he insisted before switching to the tight beam channel between their two helmets to prevent anyone else from eavesdropping. "Did Edi say anything to you during your lessons?"

Fib grunted. Even over the comm, Shades could hear his brother's discomfort at the mention of the Force lessons he'd been having with Edi on a regular basis for almost seven months now. _"She hasn't said anything,"_ the medic replied, voice tight, _"and I haven't asked. I know when to keep my mouth shut."_ The _unlike some people_ was left unsaid but heavily implied nonetheless.

_He must have picked something up in the Force. He knows something's bothering her, but he's not pushing it._

Shades fought down the immediate urge to demand details out of a worry for Edi's wellbeing. The last thing he wanted to do was prove Fib right. The man was insufferable enough on the best of days without adding fuel to the fire.

The two clones continued down the rubble strewn street in silence. Just like everywhere else on this Force cursed planet, dust hung in the air, forming a haze over everything. Large chunks of what once have might been a factory buried half the street from where a wall had collapsed. The distant sounds of fighting echoed from blocks away, enough to make Shades curious but not enough to cause alarm. He kept up a continuous visual scan of the area anyway, just to be on the safe side. In war it was usually the little things that you didn't notice that killed you.

Fib was seven paces ahead of him, moving to step around a large chunk of masonry in his way. Shades noticed what looked like the edge of a pile of rags just as Fib's foot came down on it.

The squeal of pain and fright that rent the air startled Shades terribly. He was diving for cover, DC raised, before he even realized that there were no other people on the street besides himself, Fib, and whatever or whoever the medic had stepped on.

_"Fierfek!"_ Fib stumbled back in shock, DC jerking up to fire out of pure reflex before he froze where he stood. Shades peered over the chunk of duracrete that he'd taken cover behind to see what his brother was staring at.

There, crouched in the dirt at Fib's feet and huddled back against a piece of ruble, was a miniature person. Shades had never had much contact with mongrel kids, but he supposed that was what this small being was. It was wearing ragged clothes that were more hole than cloth. Its face and visible skin were so smudged and dirty that the sergeant couldn't tell what gender it was. The child's hair was a ratty mop of snarls and tangles and appeared to be dark brown, but again, it was so dirty it was impossible to tell. However, Shades could clearly see a trickle of blood running down the side of the child's face from where Fib had stepped on it.

_"Fierfek,"_ Fib muttered again, this time softer. He crouched down carefully in front of the child, but when he reached for it, it let out a little scream and flinched away. The medic yanked his hand back as though he'd been burned.

_"She's scared of us,"_ Fib murmured.

Shades rolled his eyes. "Well, duh, you moron. We probably look like droids to…her. Are you sure it's a her?"

_"Yes."_

With slow, deliberate movements, trying not to spook the youngling, Fib reached up a released the seals on his helmet with a soft _hiss_. The girl flinched at the sound, her eyes never leaving Fib as the medic carefully removed his helmet and set it on the ground beside him. Against the drab grays and browns of the bombed out city his shaggy head of blazing red hair stood out in sharp contrast. The child's eyes went immediately to the bright color. She babbled something in a language that neither clone could understand.

Fib's eyebrows shot up. "Right then," he muttered. He reached for the girl with one hand while the other went to his medical bag to retrieve bandages and disinfectant spray.

The child jerked away with a stifled shriek and bolted.

"Hey!" Before Shades could even register what was happening, Fib had lunged up and tackled the girl, landing on top of the small body.

"What are you doing?" he bellowed as he watched in shock as his brother wrestled with the youngling, managing to get her into a headlock despite her thrashing. Had the man gone insane?

"Easy, calm down, I'm not—Ahh!" Fib cut off abruptly as sharp little teeth sank into his hand. "Why you little—! I said _calm down_!"

At the last statement, the small body went limp in the medic's grip. Shades felt an answering ripple as his own muscles obediently unclenched before he realized that Fib had just done a Jedi mind trick, probably unconsciously. Most of his Force use still was. It still grated on the sergeant that he responded to the Force-command.

The child in Fib's arms burst into tears. Harsh, terrified sobs racked her skinny body as she slumped against her captor's chest. The medic now looked almost as distraught as the crying youngling. He obviously had no idea what to do in a situation like this, though his healer's instinct was telling him to make the hurting stop.

Shades removed his helmet and moved to join his brother next to the terrified little girl. He was completely out of his depth as well. No clone ever cried like this, not even on Kamino. There the last thing you wanted to do was draw attention to yourself, so no matter how much it hurt, you kept the pain locked up and used it to drive yourself harder. The fact that this was a small _female_ only made the situation more confusing.

Shades hated feeling out of his depth. He _hated_ it. He was a clone, genetically engineered and trained from the time he was decanted to be the best soldier in the galaxy. He could hear more, see more, run faster, fight longer, and endure more pain than any randomly conceived being ever could. And when he was knocked down, he could get back up and keep pushing forward long after others had broken. He _had_ to keep moving forward. It was all he could do, especially when he couldn't bear to look back.

And now there was this small, crying person, and he didn't know what to do. This wasn't a problem he could shoot to make it go away. Something else was needed, but for the life of him, Shades couldn't guess what. This sort of scenario was never covered in flash training.

His eyes met Fib's over the girl's head, and he knew that he must look just as unsettled as his brother. The child's distressed sobs were upsetting on a primal level, but he didn't know how to make it better.

Fib's hands, hovering hesitantly in the air before, settled carefully on the tiny girl's head. He stroked the matted hair uncertainly, glancing up at Shades for guidance. The sergeant could only shrug helplessly. Fib continued petting the youngling's hair. He started humming, some vague tuneless sound that reminded Shades of Edi's lightsaber. After a little bit, Fib's body began to rock slightly as he tried to soothe the girl. The confused, unhappy look hadn't left his face. Shades didn't think he'd ever seen the other man this obviously distressed before.

_No, there was that time that Edi got hurt protecting him. And the time he found out that he was a Force-user. And…right, not helping. Focus, Shades. Think happy thoughts. Maybe that will help._

The sergeant found himself unconsciously humming along with the other clone. The three of them must have made quite a sight crouching amongst the rubble, two unhelmeted clones humming with almost desperate intensity while the small child in one clone's lap slowly began to calm down. The little girl's shoulders stopped shaking and her wrenching sobs reduced to an occasional hiccupping whimper. As her body finally relaxed, she tilted her head up to peer at Fib from under a tangle of dirty hair.

The medic let out a stifled gasp as their eyes met. Concerned, Shades reached out and grasped his brother's shoulder. "Hey, you okay, _vod'ika_?"

Fib swallowed convulsively and nodded, his eyes never leaving the child's. "That…that was Grayson's favorite color."

Shades's hand tightened on the medic's shoulder at the rare mention of the man's dead brother. Curious now, he peered down at the youngling's filthy face. The eyes were a very distinctive color, green as the heart of springtime, tinted with just enough amber to give them a warm glow. As eyes went, Shades thought they were awfully pretty, though he preferred Edi's dark blue-black ones himself.

Seeming to shake himself from a daze, Fib once again reached for the girl's face. She didn't pull away this time, allowing the medic to cup her cheek in one large gloved hand. His thumb brushed over the cut on her forehead, just above her right eyebrow. Her eyes fluttered closed at the gentle caress, her breath coming out in a soft _huff_. Shades knew from experience the relaxing warmth that Force healing brought with it and that unimaginable lightness that remained when all the pain had been drained away.

Fib's other hand emerged from his medical bag with bacta spray and an adhesive pressure bandage. The child didn't even wince when he sprayed the cold, stinging mist on her cut and applied the bandage with gentle pressure. His hands lingered for a moment longer before falling to the ground by his hips.

The little girl's eyes opened and focused on Fib. "Abba…" she murmured. The word sounded like both a question and a declaration.

Fib's eyebrows rose. "I have no idea what you just said," he told her bluntly. This only earned him a breathtaking smile. Shades noted absently that her teeth at least looked clean and healthy.

"How old do you think she is?" he mused aloud.

Fib frowned, gently taking the child's chin in his hand and turning it this way and that. She allowed the handling, never taking her eyes off him. "I'd say about five or six standard years."

Shades's brow furrowed. She was a lot smaller than his brothers had been at that same age. A _lot_ smaller. "Can you tell that with the Force?"

"No, the teeth."

The sergeant gave his brother a skeptical look, then heaved himself to his feet with a sigh. He looked down at his armor in growing disgust; the once freshly cleaned white surface was covered in dust and Force only knew what else from kneeling on the filthy ground. "Well, it doesn't matter. We should probably call this in and get her over to the refugee camp." He reached a hand down for the girl.

In a sudden blur of movement the youngling bolted from Fib's lap and raced away down the street.

"Hey, wait!" the medic yelled, lunging after the child. Shades cursed and joined in the chase, but it was short lived. She vanished around a corner and when the clones followed, the street was empty.

"_Shab_," Fib cursed. "Where'd the little biter go?"

Over the next half hour, they searched the street, the adjacent buildings, and any alleyways that branched off the main road. There was no sign of the small girl.

Eventually, Shades was forced to call an end to the pointless search. "Wherever she is, she's long gone by now. We need to finish clearing this sector. Come on." A lingering sense of frustrated disappointment settled in his stomach as he turned to go.

Fib grunted in acknowledgment, but lingered in the street a moment longer before trudging after his brother.

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**If you like this story, please review. If you see any changes I should make, please review. The more feedback I get, the more motivated I am to update sooner. It's that simple. So, if you'd like the story to continue, PLEASE REVIEW. I have some very amusing ideas in mind for it, as well as a little bit of angst. Let me know what you think.**

**mad'ika**


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own Star Wars.**

* * *

The walk back to base was much more subdued than the departure had been. There had been one or two battle droids, nothing that two clones couldn't handle. Shades had called in to let the security watch know they were on their way back and to expect them. The last thing anyone needed was a friendly fire injury because some shiny got spooked by everything that moved.

Try as he might, Shades couldn't get the little girl out of his head. Each time he and Fib passed the remains of a house or a gutted apartment complex, he found himself wondering if she had lived there. Where were her parents? It had been obvious that no one was taking care of her. Where was she living? Was she getting enough food? Probably not, if her skinny arms and legs had been anything to go by.

_We don't even know her name_, Shades thought morosely.

_"Sort of hard to find out when we didn't understand a word she said,"_ came the pragmatic reply over the helmet comms.

The frustration of being helpless combined with the instinctive unease he still felt at having someone answer his thoughts with such frightening accuracy had Shades rounding on his brother in sudden anger. "Stay out of my head," he snapped. "I know you can't help being weird most of the time, but that's just too much. Keep your kriffing Jedi thought-probes to yourself."

Spinning around, the sergeant strode off at a brisk pace, determined to leave the medic as far behind as possible. He'd been expecting some barbed retort, but the comms stayed silent. Glancing at his 360-degree visual feed, Shades saw Fib trailing along behind at a more subdued pace. He would have looked completely unruffled to anyone else, even another clone, but Shades noted the slightest dip to Fib's helmet. His sharp words had hit their target. Good.

Fifteen minutes of repressive silence later, however, and he wasn't feeling quite so satisfied. Fib should have said something by now, even if it was only to complain about what a fast pace the sergeant was setting. Glancing at his visual feed again, Shades saw that the medic was lagging even further behind than before. A guilty knot settled in his stomach. He suppressed a sigh of irritation, aimed mostly at himself.

_Me and my big mouth. You'd think I'd've learned by now._

Fib was still sensitive about his ability to use the Force. Shades was one of the only two people in the entire galaxy that he could completely be himself with. And, like it or not, that included being a Force-user. Edi and Shades had talked about it when the medic wasn't around. Edi had heavily emphasized the fact that Fib needed emotional support on this issue, no matter how irritable he appeared on the subject. She could provide guidance in the ways of the Force, but she couldn't give him the normality that he needed to keep him balanced.

"Only you can do that, Shades," she'd said. "You're his brother. He needs you to accept him as he is, Force and all. It's the only way he'll ever be able to accept himself."

Shades was trying. On most days, he was even successful. Then Fib would do something, like read his mind, and the vestiges of confusion and distrust and hurt anger that he'd first felt at the realization of Fib's abilities would cloud his judgment, and Shades would inevitably end up saying something he'd later regret.

Sometimes when he apologized—if he could bring himself to—Fib would outright ignore him and retreat to his medbay to sulk. Other times, he would brush off the apology and it would be as though nothing had ever happened. It was a messy business on both sides, this figuring out how to coexist with the specter of Fib's Force-sensitivity always looming over them. But it got a little easier each day. They just had to be willing to keep forgiving each other.

Shades waited until the medic caught up with him before falling into step beside him. They didn't look at each other. No words were exchanged, but the simple act of walking together soothed the tightness between the two men. Shades breathed a mental sigh as it became apparent that he wouldn't have to apologize out loud. He was never sure what to say and often felt off balance for hours afterward. Then Fib spoke.

_"I wasn't reading your mind,"_ he said in a surprisingly quiet voice. _"We can't read minds. The Force shows us emotions and intentions, and if we're close enough to someone, we can almost put words to it. That's all."_

Shades glanced at his brother in mild surprise, then bit his lip as fresh guilt churned his stomach. He could hear the weariness and confusion plainly in Fib's usually gruff, irritated voice. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than for his brother to grumble at him, berate him, called him an idiot, anything to get that frayed, uncertain edge out of the other clone's voice.

"Of course you'd say that," he said in deliberately lofty tones. "That's a _much_ better explanation than the one that you've got an antenna growing out of the top of your head."

In the silence that followed Shades began to worry that he'd said the wrong thing and made everything worse. Then Fib let out a growl that had no real malice behind it.

_"Shut up, you idiot."_

Shades smiled.

Soon they left the residential district behind and began to short trek to the factory sector. Renegade's base camp was set up in an abandoned industrial plant once used to manufacture Veeto's Vivacious Hover Boards, or so the holosign on the front gate claimed. The business had made great use of off-world labor, so the compound was equipped with barracks, innumerable 'freshers, and something that might have passed for a cafeteria on Nar Shadaa but was ill-equipped to handle the clones' prodigious appetites. Meals were now taken in a large tent in the front courtyard. The main factory building served as arms storage and forward command center.

The compound itself was located on the far side of what must once have been a beautiful plaza. Shades glanced down as he jogged towards the front gate and was able to make out rose pink and coral blue tiles lying broken and scattered amongst the dust. It really was a shame, but nothing was safe in war, no matter how beautiful or untouchable it seemed.

The gate swung open in front of Shades and Fib, revealing the bustling base. They were home in time for dinner.

Grinning to himself, Shades moved forward, removing his helmet as he went and eager to beat his brothers to the mess tent. The gate guard started to call out in surprise, "Sergeant, wait a—"

Whatever else the man was going to say was drowned out by a rapid high-pitched _crack-crack-crack_ as the ground right in front of Shades's feet burst into a plume of dust and orange, gold, and purple sparks. The small explosion knocked the clone sergeant back two steps. Fib yelped in alarm behind him.

_Sparkers? Oh, that does it._

"Blaze, Poke, Quin!" the sergeant roared, his good mood completely forgotten.

There was some muttering and a soft clatter of armor plates, then three young clones wearing matching guilty expressions shuffled from behind a stack of crates. One with hot pink stripes in his hair gave Shades a truly remorseful look. "We weren't trying to prank you, Sarge, honest," Poke said earnestly, biting his bottom lip. "That was supposed to be for Nutter."

Shades let out a hard breath that was more of a growl and watched in satisfaction as all three shinnies flinched. Renegade had recently picked up the four new troopers fresh off Kamino. They were pretty good, for shinnies, but these endless attempts to prank each other had to stop.

_My brothers and I never caused this much trouble. Training on Kamino must be getting lax._

"This has gone far enough," he stated. "You're not on Kamino anymore. This is the GAR and I expect you to behave like the soldiers you were trained to be, not some mongrel hooligans out looking for a good time."

The one with tribal tattoos on half his face—Quin—muttered something mutinous under his breath about old windbags having all the fun concussed out of them. Shades's face darkened with anger, and he took an unconscious step forward, fists clenched at his sides. Quin pulled back, eyes widening at the sudden rage on his superior's face. The slightest hint of fear flickered at the edges of his eyes. As soon as he saw it, the anger left Shades in a rush. It was one thing to intimidate the younger men, but to cause them real fear? Unacceptable.

Shades sighed. "I know it doesn't seem fair, son," he said, surprising himself by addressing the shinnies the way Captain Thorn had once talked to him, with a mixture of gentle sternness and weary forbearance. "I know it seems like we're all hard on you for no reason and we never give you a break. But it's for your own good. I'm hard on you now so that when it comes time to fight, you'll be ready. I want to see every one of you make it out of this war alive. Anything else is unacceptable."

The shinnies were regarding him with looks of mixed surprise and chagrin. But there was also thankfulness. The knowledge that their older brothers were watching out for them soothed the secret fear that all rookies felt: that the older clones picked on them not because they cared, but because they really didn't want them there. That they were nothing more than a burden.

Feeling rather proud of himself for managing to sound so eloquent, Shades nodded at the three young clones. "Dismissed," he said.

But the three remained rooted to the spot, staring at something behind Shades with looks of utter incomprehension on their faces. Now curious, the sergeant turned to see what was so interesting.

There, clinging to Fib's leg and regarding them all with large green eyes, was the little girl that Fib had stepped on. It couldn't be any other. The bandage above her right eyebrow was as obvious as a Hutt in a public fountain.

Quin was the first to recover his voice. "Where did _that_ come from?"

The agitated gate guard moved into Shades's line of sight. "I tried to tell you," he muttered. "It darted in just as the gates were closing. I didn't even see it coming."

"She," Shades corrected absently. He looked up at Fib. The medic's initial expression of surprise was quickly fading to one of disgruntlement.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, trying to move his leg out of her grip. She held on stubbornly.

"Abba," the youngling declared. She stared up at Fib with a look of rapture that only seemed to unnerve the medic more.

"I don't even know what that means. Shades, help me out here."

Shades was at a complete loss. "How? I don't think anything short of a fusion cutter is going to get her off you."

"What's going on over here, boys?"

The shinnies jumped at the sound of their general's voice and beat a hasty retreat. Edi watched them curiously before turning back to the two older clones. Her eyes widened at the sight of the tiny child latched onto the medic's leg. "Well, this is…new. What have you got there, Fib?"

"She's not mine!" he squawked in defensive outrage. "I've only seen her once before. She must have followed us back to base." The little girl was still clinging doggedly to Fib's legs. The disgruntled expression hadn't left his face. "She won't—let—_go_!"

Edi chuckled.

The child looked around Fib's legs, regarding the Jedi with solemn curiosity. Looking back up at the medic, she said something in her native tongue. He could only shake his head helplessly.

Edi's eyebrows went up. Crouching down in front of the youngling, she said something in the same language. The child's face brightened and she babbled happily at Edi for several minutes. She never let go of Fib's leg.

Edi settled back on her heels, a thoughtful look on her face. "Well," she said to the two expectant clones, "her name is Ri Fengris. She's five years old and enjoys flying solar kites. She used to live in a house by a park with a big fountain in it. And…" Here Edi paused, glancing almost guiltily up at Fib.

"She says you're her father, Fib."

The stunned silence lasted for all of two seconds.

"_What!_"

Shades was certain that he'd never heard anyone scream that loudly in his entire life. And he'd heard a lot of screaming.

"That's…how…that doesn't even make sense!" The medic was staring down at the girl—Ri—with a look bordering on panic. "I'm only seven years older than her. How does that even work? Where are her real parents?"

Edi said something to the child that was obviously a question. As Shades watched, Ri's eyes filled with tears—_not again!_—and she pressed her face into Fib's armored legs, answering Edi with a quiet mumble.

"She says her mom and dad wouldn't get up after the house broke. It was probably caught in a shock wave from one of the bombings. She says…half of Daddy was stuck under a wall and Mama's head wasn't…wasn't all there. She tried to wake them up, but," Edi's voice hitched a little, "they wouldn't wake."

Shades's throat tightened slightly. He was no stranger to death. One of the clones in his unit had been killed in a live fire exercise when he was five. He killed every day, both droids and organics. But it was easy to forget that civvies weren't as accustomed to death as he and his brothers were. They didn't know how to cope.

Parents…he didn't know what losing them was like. He'd never had any. But when he thought of losing Thorn, losing Fib, losing Edi…his stomach knotted and cold dread flooded his body. Maybe having your parents die wasn't so different.

Fib's initial panic had ebbed away to be replaced by solemn concentration. He stared down at Ri like he was reading the flow of information on an unseen HUD. Picking up things that Shades couldn't begin to understand. A shiver ran down the sergeant's back. Why did Force-users have to be so obviously weird?

Fib finally looked back at Edi. "Okay, that answers that question. But how can she think I'm her father if she knows that he's dead? And why _me_?"

Another exchange in that foreign language. Shades was starting to wish they had an interpreter droid handy. Useful things, if a bit annoying. He was actually pretty sure they had one in storage somewhere.

Edi looked back up, a slight smile on her face this time. "You took care of her. You made the hurting go away, just like Daddy used to. You made her feel safe." She tilted her head slightly, indicating the bandage on Ri's forehead, and raised a questioning eyebrow. Fib blushed.

The beeping of Edi's comlink ended the embarrassed silence. With an aggravated sigh, she produced the comm from her belt and listened for a moment before rising and dusting herself off. "I've got to go, the Council's calling. You might want to clean her up and get her something to eat. She feels pretty hungry."

Well, thought Shades, eyeing Ri's skinny arms and legs, it didn't take a Jedi to figure that out.

"Oh, by the way," Edi called over her shoulder as she hurried off. "Abba means _father_."

* * *

**Ri's name is pronounced "Ree."**

**Please review.**

**mad'ika**


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